Recovery
by Keirou
Summary: A familiar face is found unconscious in Death City after disappearing suddenly months ago. Where has he been? What's happened to him? Stein will find the answers to these questions, but does he really want to? Rated M for future dark content
1. Chapter 1

It was dark in Death City, no lights illuminating the streets in the early morning hours. Even the grinning moon had sunk behind the mountains to the west, its pale light gone from the sky, leaving only the stars to shed a faint glow over the city. No one was about on the streets, and barely a sound was heard echoing through the alleyways. So it was that no one saw the man staggering over the bridge that was the main entrance to the city itself.

He might have been tall; it was hard to tell as he was hunched over slightly. He was definitely thin, the ragged remnants of his clothing hanging off him as though they had been meant for a larger man than he. His feet were bare, what shoes he might have had long gone and leaving cuts and dust in their stead. He walked with his head bowed, shoulder-length hair pitching his already-shadowed face into darkness. The sound of his footsteps, bare skin against the pavement, broke the silence of the deserted streets as he wandered, seemingly aimless, through the city.

Occasionally he would stumble into a wall and hesitate for a moment, wavering on his feet. With a sound that could have been half laugh, half sob, he pushed himself off again, continuing his tottering way through the streets. The odd laughter came again, each time he pushed himself away from a wall or a lamp-post to continue his wanderings, almost as if there was a fountain within him that bubbled up intermittently, a geyser of something he was unable to describe that would not let itself be contained.

It burst forth a final time as he found a long set of stairs leading up towards the large building at the top of the city's hill. With each step up, the sound came again, and again. The man seemed oblivious to the slightly bloody footprints he'd begun leaving somewhere in the city's alleyways, to the intermittent tears that trickled down his face, even to the weariness that was finally creeping over his limbs. He simply kept climbing, laughing to himself all the while, until his world went completely dark.

It would not be until the next morning that anyone would see the man lying prone halfway up the steps leading to Shibusen.

* * *

><p>In his room at the Patchwork Laboratory, Stein was not having the most peaceful night of his life. Troubled by unseen thoughts, his sleep was restless and strained, with every so often the faint, hopefully-imagined creeping sounds of madness whispering at the edges of his awareness. Occasionally, too, there would be flashes of nightmares, visions of his former partner disappearing, or walking away without a sound, leaving him alone.<p>

He jerked awake after one particularly disturbing scene and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. Pale sunlight was streaming in through a window; morning had come. Sitting up, the scientist ran a hand through his silver hair as though to brush away the night's troubled sleep. Another day with no change...it was wearing on him, though he let no one see. Only in the privacy of his lab would Stein even consider showing a hint of weakness.

He was gone. Had disappeared, months ago. The one person Stein even marginally considered himself close to. Why he had disappeared, or how, no one knew; all anyone could say was that he had last been seen leaving his favorite cabaret late one night, and had apparently never made it home. His disappearance, so sudden, had done absolutely nothing for the morale of those fighting against Arachnophobia and the resurrected kishin Ashura, and everything that could be done to find him had been done to no avail.

Stein got up and dressed, then sat down in his desk chair and pulled out a cigarette. Lighting it, he took a long drag before letting out a sigh and staring at the quickly-dissipating smoke cloud with dull eyes. He didn't want to give up, didn't want to just leave the one friend he had in the world to whatever fate had befallen him, but it was looking as though he had no choice. There hadn't been even the barest hint of a sign that they were anywhere close to on the right track.

And then he felt it.

Just the barest hint at first, a fleeting familiar sensation, a wavelength he knew almost as well as his own. It was different, somehow, altered, but it was there. Stein was on his feet and almost running out of the lab in an instant, grabbing his coat almost as an afterthought.

He was back.

* * *

><p>Maka's night passed with little event. A dreamless sleep made it far easier than some nights had been; since the disappearance of the biggest pain in her life she'd had more than a few uneasy dreams, some bordering on nightmares. It bothered her more than a little but she said nothing about it. There was no way she was going to admit she was having nightmares over something like this, after all.<p>

Waking up, she rose and stretched a little before taking her hair out of its night-time buns and putting it into its usual pigtails. The familiar routine eased what little anxiety she admitted she had, but her thoughts cycled right back as she headed to the kitchen. Of all the times to disappear, why had he picked now? He was always making her life harder than it had to be, and now he was doing the same thing to everyone at Shibusen...everyone in Death City, even. Hmph.

Still...just vanishing like that was hardly like him, she knew. Maka broke a few eggs into a frying pan, getting breakfast started. He had always been there, a constant presence in her life, and as much as she didn't want to admit it she kind of missed his irritating insistence on trying to get closer to her. It was oddly soothing, in its own weird way, especially now that he was gone. Sure, she often went days without speaking to him, or a couple weeks without even seeing him, but months...that was different.

She added some ham and mushrooms into the forming omelet, the movements so practiced they didn't need thought. Where had he gone? And why had he left? Why couldn't even the best efforts of Dr. Stein and Sid-sensei and the others at Shibusen even turn up a hint of where he was? Maka stared down at the cooking breakfast, allowing her worry to show through just a little. Soul and Blair would still be asleep for a few minutes, which meant she didn't have to hide just how concerned she was over his total absence.

Adding some cheese, Maka flipped the omelet over to let it finish cooking, still mulling over all her unanswered questions. Had anyone told her mother? She certainly hadn't, in her denial of any personal concern in the matter...should she, though? Would Mama want to know something like this? With the only form of communication between them being letters and postcards, though, who knew how long it would be before word actually reached her.

Maka pulled a plate down from the cupboard and slid the omelet onto it, setting it on the table, then turned to grab another few eggs from the fridge. How long would Shibusen continue the search? There had been no progress of any kind for months; all they'd managed to find were places where he wasn't. Would Shinigami-sama call off the search soon? Maka's hand tightened on the eggs for a moment. Calling off the search meant giving up, leaving him who knew where, and that bothered her more than she was willing to admit even to herself. She wanted to find him, to give him a piece of her mind for disappearing on them right when they needed everyone they had.

And then a flicker, faint but growing, nudged her awareness. She froze. That was...then he was...but it had changed, the wavelength was different somehow. Dropping the frying pan Maka raced for the door, dashing past a sleepy-looking Soul who'd poked his head out of his room at the crash.

"Maka...? What's going on?"

"He's back...!"

* * *

><p>Stein reached the hospital to find a small crowd outside, all staring through the doors and windows. The mere fact that his senses had led him to the hospital in the first place was cause enough to make the normally stoic scientist concerned. As he began making his way through the crowd, a voice behind him caught his attention.<p>

"Doctor!"

He glanced over his shoulder to see Maka running up, followed by her partner Soul.

"He's here, isn't he?" Maka asked, looking up at him with earnest green eyes; Stein wondered occasionally if she had any idea how often those eyes made her look like her father.

"Yes," Stein said, looking back at the hospital. The crowd was beginning to disperse, most of its members realizing they weren't going to get anything like a good look at what they wanted. Good. He started inside, Maka and Soul following. Finding the proper room was easy enough, as there was a small crowd inside as well. Stein pushed through them, breaking free of the crowd as his senses told him he'd reached his goal. Disregarding the poor nurses trying to keep the crowds out, Stein just walked through the door. And stopped dead on the other side.

He was there, all right. Unconscious and pale enough to rival Stein's pallor, lying on a bed with a pair of nurses and a doctor all tending to him. Stein's eyes slid over the form he at once knew so well and yet now barely recognized, his scientist mind noting everything in clinical, detached detail. The grey-green shirt and black slacks that had been cut open to give the doctors access had barely needed the treatment. The clothes lay on the bed now, little more than rags that would have barely covered their wearer's body. That body was thinner than Stein had ever seen it, each rib clearly defined against the skin, limbs little more than bone themselves. Crisscrossing the skin all over were dozens of wounds, some months old, some barely healed, and one or two torn open and still seeping blood. Without exception, they had all apparently been made by a sharp blade. Even his feet were injured, cut, bruised and all but caked with dried blood. How long had he been walking without shoes? An IV had already been started, dripping nutrients and hydration directly into his bloodstream, but it was obviously going to take a lot more than that to bring him back from the brink he was teetering on.

Stein looked away for a moment, the better to keep his stoic mask. Seeing his oldest, only, friend in that condition was...hard. There were feelings the scientist couldn't readily explain rising up within him. A sort of odd fear, sadness...and anger, directed towards those who had put his old partner in that condition. Stein's left hand clenched into a fist, the motion unconscious. He would find out exactly who it was, and they would regret having lifted a finger against _his_ partner. Pale jade eyes became hard as the stone they resembled as he looked back at the unconscious man. This would not go un-avenged.

"Holy shit..." Soul's voice reminded the scientist that he wasn't exactly alone here.

"He's alive..." Maka said, her tone indicating she was saying it mostly to make herself feel better.

"He is," Stein agreed, his own voice distant. "If you two want to wait outside, I'm going to have a word with the doctor."

"What? But-" Maka began to protest, but Soul grabbed her arm.

"There's not much we can do here anyway," the young man pointed out. "And he didn't say leave, just wait outside. C'mon."

"...Kay..." Maka took one last look at the bed's occupant, then followed her partner out to the waiting room.

Stein turned back to the bed and the medical personnel around it. Quietly he approached the attending physician, his voice courteous but still with an air of command to it. "Doctor, could I speak with you a moment, in private?"

The doctor glanced up and hesitated, meeting Stein's eyes, then nodded. "...Of...of course."

Moving off to one side, Stein looked down at the doctor; most people were at least an inch or two shorter than he was, which made it rather easy for him to persuade them to see things his way. Usually he didn't actually mean to be intimidating, but he couldn't really deny that it did help. "You've taken care of the preliminary examination, I know," he began, his voice still cool and calm, "but I think I should take it from here."

The doctor blinked up at him. Stein vaguely recognized the man now they were actually talking; a decent physician, which was something, but also a man who tended to go by the book. "That's...I'm not sure that goes along with hospital protocol," he began, but fell silent as he met Stein's eyes again.

"I know more about that man medically offhand than you or your coworkers would be able to discover in a week," Stein replied, stating the simple facts of the situation, "in addition to knowing the finer details about his optimal physical state and how best to return him to it."

The doctor said nothing for a moment, glancing between Stein and the bed, then sighed. "You certainly have the credentials, if nothing else," he said, the words half-mumble. Occasionally, being intimidating really did help. "All right, I'll see to the paperwork. He's your patient."

"Thank you." Without another word, Stein turned and walked over to the bed, looking down at its occupant. Against the man's pale skin his red hair stood out even more than usual, even if the color was darker than usual. Wet...they must have cleaned him off. "Where was he found?" he asked one of the nurses who'd moved to replace the IV drip with a fresh one.

"One of the Shibusen students found him on the school steps," she replied, finishing her job briskly and moving on.

On the steps of Shibusen...Stein moved to grab the man's chart from where it lay to one side, flipping through it as a way to distract his mind from the odd emotions that continued to rise within. More anger, though directed inward this time, an odd pain to join the strange fear...not things Stein fully understood even on good days. The chart, however, was cold data, facts that he could focus on to bring the more detached, clinical side of his mind to the fore. He should focus on what he needed to know, and not the fact that it could have been him who discovered the man lying in that bed, that he could have made the discovery earlier if he'd just taken a walk during one of his periods of insomnia last night...tightening his grip on the clipboard, Stein reached up to turn his screw a few times. Focus.

"Can we come in now?" A quiet voice asked after several minutes. Stein glanced over to see Maka poking her head through the door looking at once hopeful and worried.

"Certainly." Nothing was likely to change within the next few hours, he knew, so there was no point in denying Maka the chance to sit with the patient.

She nodded and almost hesitantly made her way to the bedside. "...will he be all right?" she asked after a moment.

Stein looked at her for a moment, then down at the man in question. "Eventually, I'm sure," he said, putting brightness into his voice that he didn't really feel. Maka probably wouldn't pick up on it; he had gotten skilled at mimicking certain emotions over the years. The only one these days who could really tell...was the one in the bed. "It'll just take time, that's all."

"Right..." Maka didn't look up. It was almost a pity the man would have no idea of her worry when he woke up, Stein thought.

Soul walked up beside her, hands in his pockets, saying nothing. Stein studied the pair of them. When he'd first met them, he'd taken their measure. Maka was a serious girl who put her all into whatever she did, while Soul had a tendency to be rebellious and more than a bit cynical. The two were almost complete opposites, but they'd only become a stronger pair as time had worn on. They knew each other's moods well by now, as evidenced by Soul's silent support for his meister. Theirs was a pairing that didn't need words or gestures sometimes. Stein glanced back down at the bed and its occupant. Very like another pair he could recall, once upon a time.

"You should go on to class," he said after perhaps fifteen minutes. "I'll let you know if anything changes."

For a moment it looked as though Maka was going to argue, but she just nodded in silence. Soul put his hand on her shoulder for a moment, then turned for the door. Maka followed him in silence, taking one last look back before closing the door behind them. Stein turned back to the bed. Really, right now, there was very little for him to do. The opened injuries had been cleaned and bandaged, the patient was getting nutrients and liquids from the IV, and his body was forcing him to get some rest which meant there was no need for artificial sedation. The nurses knew their job well, which meant an actual room was likely being prepared for him now and that would get him some real privacy. There wasn't much of a reason for Stein to stay.

But he wanted to. If he left, he had nowhere to go but back to the lab regardless, where he'd likely end up mulling over the sudden reappearance and current state of his old partner. That was something he could do just as easily here, and here at least he'd be close by if something did happen. Absently, he reached for the pack of cigarettes in his coat, but caught sight of the no-smoking sign even as he began to pull them out. Oh yeah, no smoking in hospitals...he'd have to step outside for that. That was irritating.

Still, it would hopefully help to clear his mind, and currently he had nothing else that absolutely needed his attention. Heading back into the hall Stein looked for the closest door out he could find, which turned out to lead into a small courtyard. Lighting the cigarette, he took a long drag and let the smoke out slowly, leaning against the wall and staring up at the sky. The recovery period for someone in the patient's condition was long, and would likely be a hard one; there was no telling at the moment how severe the condition of his muscles were, though since he walked from who-knew-where all the way back to Shibusen they hadn't atrophied to the point of immobilization. That was good. Still, severe starvation could lead to all sorts of things that Stein didn't much want to think about even as the clinical side of his mind listed them off. Organ damage. Increased susceptibility to disease. Heart failure.

He closed his eyes. That was not something he especially wanted on his mind right now. It was bad enough seeing the condition, but at least the man was alive and had some small chance of recovering. Throw in a few complications, though...the odd fear that had been nagging at Stein since seeing his old partner heightened a bit. Those were just the complications from the most obvious problem. If even one of the myriad wounds hadn't been cleaned properly, if an infection had already started growing...what if it hit too fast to stop? With the immune system compromised, antibiotics were the only way to fight something like that, and while surely the doctor Stein had replaced had already thought of that, what if he hadn't? And could the patient's severely malnourished body withstand being pumped full of medicine right now? Weak as he was, would that do more harm than good?

_You always did worry too much, you know._

The echo of a voice in Stein's mind was accompanied by the flash of a memory. Blue eyes with a hint of grey, their expression wry and resigned, in a face that had always been full of life, dark red hair falling to frame it in a fashion that was at once haphazard and groomed. That would be what he'd say right now, wouldn't it...if he weren't unconscious in a hospital bed who knew how close to death. Of course Stein was worried in a situation like this...though it was mildly relieving just to have a name to put to the combination of pain and fear he still felt. Why wouldn't he be worried now, of all times? "Idiot," he muttered, speaking aloud to the remembered voice in his mind. "You were always too carefree..."

By the time Stein had finished his cigarette, his worry hadn't abated in the slightest. Stamping it out against the wall, he let the butt fall to the ground as he headed back inside. There was activity around the room he'd left, and he increased his pace to see what was going on. Even as he reached the door, the patient was wheeled out on a bed, one orderly taking care to hold his IV up to continue the drip as another pushed the bed. Ah, so that was it.

"His room is ready, then?" Stein asked. One of the orderlies nodded. Stein walked alongside the bed as it was pushed down the hall towards the elevators, eyes mostly on the patient. Still unconscious with no apparent change in anything. That eased Stein's mind a little about the smoke break he'd taken. He hadn't missed anything. That was good.

Nothing did change until they got on the elevator and it began to rise. The subtle pressure seemed to have an effect on the patient, who stirred slightly. His head rolled, brow furrowing just enough to show, and his breathing sped just a little. Stein tensed unconsciously, watching. A nightmare? The man's face twitched, shifting from the faint nervous, almost pained, expression into an equally faint almost-smile and back again so quickly that Stein wasn't certain he hadn't just imagined it. As they neared their destination floor, however, the patient calmed down, his breathing evening out. As the elevator slowed, then stopped, the pressure's letting up brought another round of light stirring. Stein kept a close eye on him as the bed was wheeled out and down another hall, but the man showed no signs of waking. His body was apparently keeping him asleep.

Stein took a step out of the way as the bed was wheeled into an empty room, to give the orderlies room to work. He should probably just go home. Instructions to call him immediately if anything changed could easily be left, after all, he didn't have to stay there. It wasn't as though his staying was doing the patient any good. It wasn't doing the man any harm, either, though. Besides, if he stayed, then he would be on hand immediately if something changed, and Stein didn't want to waste the time it would take him even running flat out to get from his lab to the hospital in the event of an emergency call.

With a quiet sigh Stein settled into the room's only chair, leaning back and watching the man in the bed. Whether he stayed or left, he'd continue thinking about the situation, that much was true and unavoidable. He wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything he might try to do at the lab. And if he stayed here, he'd be close at hand in case of emergency. That settled it, then.

The rest of the day passed without event. A nurse looked in on the patient every so often only to be told both by the machines and Stein that nothing had changed. Maka and Soul stopped by again that evening, which gave him some quiet company for half an hour before the pair headed home; it really was a pity that the patient would never know how much Maka was worried about him. Stein paced restlessly, staving off his smoking habit as much as possible between cigarette breaks. Even though there was a balcony just down the hall available for him to use as a smoking lounge, he disliked the thought of leaving the room for more time than was absolutely necessary.

As the moon rose, Stein settled back into the chair. He was oddly tired, for a day that had involved no real activity whatsoever. Part of that could have been due to the fact that he hadn't slept well at all recently, though. He leaned back against the chair, head resting against the wall behind him and eyes trained on the unconscious figure in the bed. Such a conflict of feelings, being glad he was back and yet...sad at the same time. Sad? Was that right? Stein shrugged mentally, listening to the only sound in the room. He'd grown accustomed to it over the course of the day; the rhythmic beeping was soothing in its own way, a constant presence in the room.

Stein let his head rest against the wall behind him, eyes still on the bed. It really was a nice sound. Gradually, his eyes slid closed. The rhythm became more noticeable then, his hearing heightening as his sight was taken away. The barest hint of a smile crossed Stein's face. Perhaps tonight, at least, he could sleep a little better. _Tonight, at least, I can hear your heartbeat._


	2. Chapter 2

Beeping. That was the first thing he heard as the blackness began lifting slowly. Regular, rhythmic beeping coming from somewhere nearby. Slowly his eyes opened, taking in the ceiling above him in a half-focused haze. It was dark. No surprise. He felt weak, but that had been something of a constant for so long he couldn't remember what it was like not to. Slowly his mind began taking in more information about his surroundings. He was lying on something soft, the feeling almost ecstasy, with something light and gentle covering him. His clothes were gone, a fact which was immediately dismissed. It wasn't as though they'd been doing him much good as they were. Turning his head to one side he noticed wires and tubing running down to his arm and blinked at them.

Wires and tubing.

The rhythmic beeping abruptly sped up. That tube was running down to a needle that was stuck in his arm. _No..._ He began to reach for it, to get rid of it, when a voice made him freeze.

"You're awake..."

Wide eyes snapped to the voice's owner, walking towards him in the dimly-lit room. Grey hair, white coat, dark steel bolt clearly visible over the left ear, glasses reflecting what little light there was. He tensed, one hand gripping the fabric he was lying on.

"Calm down," the figure spoke again, almost within arm's reach. "You've been unconscious for about a day, it's only natural you'd be disoriented."

He kept his eyes on the figure warily, leaning away even as the figure came closer. Just stay away...just go away...he paused, realizing something. He could move. It hurt, but he wasn't restricted to what he was lying on. Slowly he continued moving his right hand towards the needle stuck in his arm. He had to get it out, no one was going to shove anything into his bloodstream anymore.

The figure kept coming. Almost there. It was almost to him. No. He wouldn't stay here. They couldn't make him. Not anymore. He made a grab for the tube in his arm, then froze as a pale hand seized his wrist, stopping him. "No!" A jet-black curved blade appeared on his arm as he tried to pull free, slashing through the sleeve of the figure's white coat and drawing blood.

It worked. His wrist was freed as the hand let go. He rolled off the bed, slipping on the slick, cold floor, and scrambled away, jerking the needle out of his arm as he did. The way out. Where was the way out? His eyes scanned the dim room frantically as he found a corner to put his back against, arm with its blade held up in front of him as a warning. Don't come any closer. Leave me alone. Where was the way out...?

His eyes snapped to the door as it opened, letting light from outside in to brighten the room a bit. Someone else entered. Were they with the other one? He tensed, a twin blade to the one on his right arm appearing on his left. Whatever they had planned, he wouldn't go quietly. Just let them try.

The figure in the white coat held up a hand, stopping the newcomer, and took a few steps around the bed. He watched the figure cautiously as it approached, backing further into his corner. The figure paused a moment, expression on the pale face unreadable. Blood had soaked into the sleeve of that white coat, but the wound itself apparently went unnoticed.

Another step forward, one hand raising slightly. What was about to happen? They weren't going to touch him, he wouldn't let them. He crouched, ready to move in whatever direction would get him out the fastest. Another step. And another. The room wasn't that big...he was almost within arm's reach. The figure's mouth opened to speak. He lashed out again, one black blade narrowly missing the figure's outstretched wrist. "Stay away from me!"

"Senpai..." The word was soft, but it cut through his awareness like lightning through a thundercloud. He looked up at the figure, blinking in slight confusion. Senpai...no one called him that. No one. No one at all...except...he straightened cautiously. Had he really heard it? Had it really been said?

The pale hand he'd nearly severed reached to touch his shoulder. He jerked away. "Don't...don't touch me..." The hand withdrew slowly, leaving a lingering scent. No, that wasn't just the hand...it was the white coat as well. Smoke. Tobacco. Cigarettes. A certain kind of cigarettes. A special kind.

"Senpai...you should sit down."

Sit? He didn't want to. But that word again...and the cigarette smell...he eyed the man standing in front of him, taking in more than just the white coat and the screw. A grey and black patchwork sweater. Black pants. A scar around the left eye, still with stitches. The man shifted his weight backward and the light let up its glare on his glasses, revealing a pale greyish-green eye currently watching him.

He knew this man. Knew the coat, that shirt, the bolt, those eyes. Knew the permanent scent of cigarettes that followed him. Knew it all and recognized it now.

"Stein..."

* * *

><p>Stein stood in silence, watching the wild look fade from those grey-blue eyes into an expression of confused recognition. He kept his expression blank and held out a hand, the movement aggravating the cut on his arm. The pain went ignored. It barely registered next to everything else. The redhead in front of him slowly took his hand, and Stein began guiding him back to the bed. He hadn't gone two steps when the other man balked, stopping dead.<p>

Pausing, Stein glanced back at him, taking in the expression of nervous uncertainty. The man's eyes were fixed on the hospital bed, and his hand had tightened slightly around Stein's own. "...Calm down," Stein told him, his voice quiet. "You need to sit down. You shouldn't be moving too much."

The man blinked and looked up at him, then down slightly. Stein sighed softly and changed direction, now guiding him to the room's lone chair. The nurse still hovering uncertainly in the room moved as though to protest, but Stein caught her gaze and held it in intense and pointed silence. Looking away, the nurse bobbed a quick bow and hurried back out of the room. Intimidation at its finest again. "Sit down," he told the redhead as they reached the chair. The man hesitated, then sat obediently, leaning back against the chair.

Stein stepped back, looking him over again. His patient was still breathing fast, eyes darting around the room as though expecting something to jump out at him at any moment. Every so often, his expression would pass over Stein and cloud with vague confusion or over the heart monitor with its attached IV stand and cloud further with suspicion. Stein sighed inwardly, no sign showing on the outside, and moved to pull the monitor towards the chair. Regardless of what his patient might want, what the man _needed_ was the fluids in the IV. And the nurses would probably appreciate the flatline alarm stopping, but that was barely an afterthought.

As Stein drew the monitor up beside the chair, the redhead shifted away slightly. Raising an eyebrow as he reached down to make sure the IV catheter had managed to remain in, Stein looked down at him. "Don't be difficult."

The patient tried to jerk his arm out of Stein's grip, the wildness returning to his eyes. "No...no more wires..."

"It's not going to hurt you," Stein said, inwardly grumbling over the need to get a fresh IV bag. Hopefully that nurse would be bringing one now. As it was, all Stein could do at the moment was reconnect the heart monitor and brood over the words _no more wires_.

"No!" The redhead pushed Stein's hand away and tried to scramble back in the chair ineffectually. "Leave me alone!"

"Senpai," Stein began, but the man managed to dart out of the chair finally, whirling to face the scientist in a defensive half-crouch. There was no calmness in those blue eyes now, no confusion. Just fear and a wild determination. Stein's own eyes widened. This went beyond simple disorientation.

"Not again," the man said, shaking his head in what had to be an unconscious gesture. "Not again, no more..."

Stein stood, just staring at him in incomprehension. Disorientation leading to panic he could understand, but this...he wasn't sure how to proceed with this, and he didn't like the feeling. It had always been his partner who had been the calmer one, level and keeping Stein's madness to a minimum. Now...he forced out a short breath and reached up to turn his screw once or twice. This was not something he wanted to think about right now, and there were more important things to deal with first anyway.

The nurse came back in then with a fresh IV and paused again, taking in the scene. Stein glanced at her, then moved to take the bag and fresh coil of tubing before leaning down to whisper in her ear, "Until he stabilizes, I think visitors should be kept away." He set the objects to one side, glancing over at where his patient still stood watching him warily before turning back to the nurse. "And fetch a small bottle of ether, please."

The nurse blinked up at him in momentary confusion before his intentions fully registered. She nodded and scurried out of the room as Stein turned back to the scared redhead. He took a step forward, making sure his hands were completely visible, and hoped this worked.

The man backed further away, flattening himself against a wall, unreasoning eyes fixed on Stein as he unconsciously shook his head again. "No...no more..."

"All right," Stein said, his voice remaining cool and calm by dint of long experience. "Okay. No more." He had to get his patient calmed down again...only then would there be any chance of getting him the help he needed.

The man watched him suspiciously, not moving as Stein approached within arm's reach. He flinched away as the scientist moved to rest a hand on his shoulder, but with a wall at his back there was nowhere for him to go. Stein could feel the tension in the man's shoulder as he simply rested his hand on it and all but held his breath until he felt some of it ease out. The redhead was calm once more, looking up at Stein again with that expression of confused surprise, as though it was a complete shock that he hadn't been hit.

"Come sit back down, Senpai," Stein told him, pushing the heart monitor away from the chair even as he led his patient back to it. The man balked for a moment, but ultimately allowed himself to be cajoled back into the seat. Stein paced restlessly, looking up as the door opened again and striding over to meet the nurse before she could enter. He took the bottle from her, glancing at the label, then wordlessly shut the door in her face and moved back to his patient's side.

The man was looking around the room again, as if for the first time, and jumped when he realized Stein was beside him again. "Wha...?"

"It's just me," Stein assured him.

His patient blinked up at him for a moment before the fresh panic faded. "S-...Stein...?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly. "Stein?"

"That's right." Stein tried to ignore the incredibly sharp pain in his chest, that this man of all people had to verify his identity. "I've got something to help you." He held up the bottle. "It will help clear your head." The redhead drew back a little, eyeing the bottle as though it might bite him, and Stein continued, "It's all right. It will help."

"...Help...?" The man echoed, looking from the bottle up to Stein as if he didn't understand.

Stein nodded, half-opening the bottle. "I promise, it will help." He paused, looking deep into those blue eyes that shouldn't have been so empty, those eyes that should know him, understand him. There was the faintest trace of a tremor in the usually stoic scientist's voice as he spoke again. "Don't you trust me, Senpai?"

"T-...trust...?" The man looked up at him, faint confusion crossing his face as though he had to think about what the word meant. "Trust..." His brow wrinkled as he looked down, and Stein found himself holding his breath, gripped by a sudden fear. "Trust...Stein...I..." The man seemed to curl in on himself for a moment, then his head tilted back to reveal an expression of pain as his breathing picked up again.

Stein didn't even stop to think. He quickly took the cap off the bottle and held the ether under his patient's nose. The man's deep breaths soon had an effect; his eyes shot open and he stared up at Stein with an expression of pure, petrified fear and dread as he began hyperventilating. Stein held that gaze, shaken to his core as the ether's power finally took hold and the man's eyes slid closed. Even in the worst days they'd shared, he'd never seen anything close to that look on that man's face before.

Slowly, mechanically, he put the cap back on the bottle and set it to one side before carefully lifting his old partner out of the chair and receiving yet another shock. The man was incredibly light, lighter than he should have been. Seeing his emaciated state was one thing, but feeling the result in his arms...Stein shut his eyes for a moment before gently laying the man down on the bed. He fetched the fresh IV from where he'd set it and reconnected everything the patient had ripped away earlier, then looked down at him.

The expression of fear had not fully faded from the man's face, and Stein knew that it would likely take restraints to keep the patient from ripping out the new IV like he had the old one. He didn't want to tie the man down, though...not after seeing the intense fear that had come simply from being sedated. But something had to be done to keep the man from hindering his own recovery due to his...

Stein couldn't even complete the thought. He turned away sharply, one hand coming up to hide his eyes even though there was no one else in the room. How had this happened? Who was responsible? He glanced back at the unconscious form in the bed, jade eyes full of pain he would let no one else see, and spoke in a shaking whisper.

"What happened to you...?"


	3. Chapter 3

The next several days found Stein pacing outside the hospital room. He hadn't slept very well since sedating the patient, and found it difficult to remain in that room for very long now. Still, he didn't want to go very far, wanted to remain nearby in case something changed, which meant that he stayed just outside and looked in occasionally. The patient had been restrained now, with soft but sturdy leather cuffs at his wrists. The cuffs had been designed to also keep his form constant, which meant that he could neither summon his blades nor transform into a weapon; it was safer that way both for him and for the hospital staff.

Stein paused in his pacing to lean against the wall, staring listlessly at the ceiling. By rights, after the episode that first night, the patient ought to have been transferred to the psych ward, but Stein had not given that order. He wasn't quite sure why; perhaps some part of him was in denial, still hoping that the events of that night had simply been the result of severe disorientation. Of course, they hadn't been. He absently reached up to trace the new line of stitches on his lab coat. They were right above a similar line on his skin, where the man's blade had cut him in the patient's initial panic, and the white fabric was still stained with dark red where he hadn't bothered to wash the blood out. Simple disorientation, however severe, would not have led to that man attacking him.

And now in addition to worrying about the patient's state, Stein thought, he also had to deal with Maka. He'd already had to send her away twice that week with some talk about how the man was still asleep and there'd been no change. Technically, it was the truth; the man was sedated, and thus asleep, and there had been no change to his physical state. His mental one, of course, was intensely changed, but Maka didn't need to know that. Not yet. Not ever, hopefully. Stein knew his patient wouldn't want her to know; the man loved his daughter too much to potentially hurt her with that kind of knowledge.

Privately, Stein wondered if keeping the man sedated had been the right call. On the one hand, no one could deny the patient needed the rest, but on the other...sedation locked someone inside their head with no escape, and if things were as bad as Stein feared in this particular patient's case then the sedation might do more harm than good in the long run. He made a mental note to ease off the sedatives and give the patient a chance to wake up. Maybe just rest had helped and there was no need to be this worried...it was a nice thought, even if he didn't actually believe it.

He was just starting to pace again when a sudden scream came from the patient's room. The primal fear and desperation in the call sent a sudden chill down Stein's spine and the scientist quickly pulled the door open, dashing inside. "Senpai!"

The patient was tossing in the bed, the restraints keeping him from moving too much but causing the bed to shake with each struggling movement. Stein hurried to his side then hesitated. The man was still asleep, caught in the throes of a nightmare...if he woke to Stein holding him down it might make things worse. The scientist was frozen, hit by a completely unfamiliar and chilling realization; he had no idea what to do here. He wanted to help the man, to make the nightmare end, the pain go away, but he didn't know how. Every idea that came to mind carried with it the risk that Stein would just be making things worse. It wasn't a feeling he liked.

Still, he couldn't just stand by and watch as his former partner struggled against a nightmare from which waking seemed impossible. Stein reached down to put a hand on the man's shoulder, reaching out to touch his wavelength and perhaps calm him that way. The scientist was completely unprepared for the chaos he felt as he did so and jerked his hand away, staring down at the man in shock. It was even worse than he'd thought...

* * *

><p>It had been dark to begin with. It was always dark. Occasionally the darkness would begin to lift but he would be plunged right back down in it. He didn't mind much; it was almost restful. Nothing was happening in this darkness. Nothing touched him, no pain, no cold or heat, just darkness and silence. He almost wished it would never end. But of course it did.<p>

He'd known it couldn't last. It never did. A faint red glow began to light the darkness, defining it, giving shape to the shadows as he lay motionless where he'd been bound. His eyes flickered around the space, dully taking in the new light. Was it beginning again? Was it not over, as he'd dared to hope?

No. It wasn't. A shape moved in the red-lit dark, a shape that somehow escaped definition but that he knew. He tried to move, to sit up, but his body felt incredibly heavy, unwilling to respond to his commands. The clink of chain...he was bound down, the metal suddenly feeling cold against his skin. The shape drew nearer, something flashing in the red glow. Something long, metallic, sharp.

No. Not again. He tried to free himself from the chains, fighting against his unwilling body. He had to get up, get out, get away. It couldn't be happening again, he'd run, he'd been free...the chains held him fast, tight against something hard beneath him that he knew to be metal. "No..."

The word sounded strange to his ears, muffled and distorted. The shape paused, standing over him, the blade – for he knew it was a blade, even if he couldn't see it clearly – in its hand raising. He struggled harder against the chains that held him down, wide eyes never leaving the blade as it slowly descended. "No...no, please..."

If the figure heard him, it made no sign. The blade rested now against his chest, right at the base of his ribcage, and he hardly dared to breathe. "Please..." he repeated, something making him speak even though he knew it was useless. Words would not stop what was about to happen.

And then it came. The blade pushed down, breaking the skin and opening his body as the figure dragged it downwards. There was nothing he could do, no way to stop it. Something pushed his head up as the cut began, tilting it at an angle where he could see what was being done, how he was being laid open like...like some experiment, or a body used in an anatomy lesson.

He let out a scream, the pain increasing as he tried to tighten muscles that were in the process of being cut, and tried to close his eyes, but it did no good. He could still see the blade moving, his skin parting to reveal the muscle below. The blade raised, then lowered again, this time opening the muscle to reveal what was below that. He struggled, hampered now by the pain as well as the chains, and knew it was pointless.

But then a new sensation, a lighter note in the darkness that he didn't understand, made itself known. Even as the blade completed its second pass he stared desperately at a pale point in the darkness, trying to lift an immobilized hand to reach it. He could feel the warmth starting to pool around him, his own blood relieving the chill of the chains for the barest moment...he had to reach that point, that light. It had never been there before, it was different. It was all he had right now. He surged toward it, putting everything he had into breaking free and reaching that single, tiny point of light, but could feel himself slipping back downwards, pulled by the chains that held him to the table. _Help me...!_

* * *

><p>Stein jerked back a little as the man's eyes flew open with another short scream, an expression of blind panic clouding their blue depths. His breathing was quick and shallow and his eyes darted over the room without consciously seeing it. "...Senpai...?" Stein said, not sure if the man would hear him or not. Would his voice register, somewhere behind that wild-animal stare?<p>

It didn't look that way. The man tried to sit up, still caught in his panic, and noticed the presence of the cuffs. That caused another scream, and he jerked against them in desperation, making the bed shake so badly Stein began wondering if he'd need to sedate the man again. "Senpai! It's all right!" he said, reaching out to turn the man's head to face him.

The patient jerked his head away with a cry of "No!" and fastened a panicked, desperate stare on Stein that sent another chill down the scientist's spine. There was no recognition in those eyes, not even the barest hint of the partner Stein had known for years, ever since their childhood. All that was left was – he hated to even think it – an animal presence running purely on survival instinct.

"No!" the man cried again, words now coming so fast they were almost unintelligible. "No, let me go, please just let me go, let me go, no more..." With each repetition he tugged at the restraints holding him to the bed, eyes shading from panicked desperation to a worryingly dull resignation as Stein watched, frozen. Eventually the patient seemed to run out of energy and simply lay in the bed, eyes shifting to stare at the ceiling listlessly.

Stein tentatively reached out to rest a hand on the man's shoulder, and wasn't sure whether to be relieved or more worried when there was no response. "Senpai…?" Dull blue eyes shifted to look at him, blinking slowly, still without recognition. "Senpai, it's me..." Stein prompted, trying to ignore the sudden and intense fear that the man had forgotten him. Surely he hadn't, surely he could remember...couldn't he?

The man blinked again then frowned slightly, eyes clearing a little. "...Stein...?"

Stein sighed inwardly in relief. "Yes. It's me."

Confusion entered the patient's expression, slow and faint but definitely there. "How...?" His eyes wandered around the room, taking in the white walls, the – in Stein's opinion rather dull – art, the tiled ceiling, before looking back at the silver-haired scientist. "W-where...am I?"

"Death City General Hospital," Stein told him, hand tightening on his shoulder for a moment.

"Death City...?" The man's eyes widened, a look of hope so desperate it was almost painful rising in his face. "I made it...?" A slow, disbelieving smile began to spread across his face and he started to reach up towards Stein. "I made-" the words, and smile, died as the restraints brought him up short. His eyes widened, unfocusing, and Stein tensed slightly. Did this mean another surge of panic?

Slowly the man looked down, pulling against the restraints as if testing them. "No..." The word was half whisper and hung in the air ominously. Just as slowly he looked up at Stein and the scientist could see what little reason there had been fading from the man's eyes. "It's a lie..."

"It's true," Stein said, thinking quickly. How could he head off another panicked surge? "Just calm down, you-"

"You're lying!" the man shouted, the restraints the only things keeping him from leaping out of the bed. "It's all a lie!"

"No! Senpai, listen to me!" Stein could feel the flickering of the man's wavelength, feel it surging towards chaos again, and knew he had to stop it now. "It's not a lie!"

"It is a lie!" the man jerked against the restraints. "Can't get up...drugging me...you're with _them_!"

Stein stiffened but shoved the notion of brooding about just who _they_ were into the back of his head. No time for that now. "Listen to me! We had to restrain you, for your own safety!"

"Get away from me!" The man tried to jerk away from Stein, though the restraints prevented him from moving very far, and stared up at him in scared suspicion.

Stein just stood there, his hand not moving from where the man's shoulder had left it. "...I'm not going to hurt you," he said, his voice now a deadpan. There was too much emotion here, too much hurt and worry and fear of his own that he simply could not deal with right now. He shoved it away, taking refuge in the emotionless, stoic mask that was his usual appearance, and looked down at his patient.

The man was staring up at him, caught again in an almost animalistic survival mode. He was shaking, Stein could tell...from fear? Or something else? Adrenaline, almost certainly. What was obvious was that the man didn't believe his words, currently didn't quite recognize him. Was it too soon to take him off sedation? Stein didn't know.

Wordlessly the scientist turned away and started for the door, ignoring the quiet sound of surprise behind him. He couldn't handle this, not right now. Let the nurses deal with it for a bit. They would probably just sedate the patient again, though...but wasn't that for the best?

No. Stein directed his steps towards the nurses' station to inform them that the patient had woken and was not to be sedated again. There would be no progress at all if he didn't realize that he truly was in a hospital in Death City and not...wherever he had been for the past three months.

A sudden surge of anger filled Stein at the unanswered question; where _had_ the man been? Who had done that to him? Stein wanted...no, he _needed_ to find out. Whoever _they_ had been, they had taken his friend, his partner, away, had done things to him Stein didn't want to imagine, and had sent him back...

He stopped that thought before it finished, unwilling to admit it even privately, and realized he'd walked right onto the balcony that he often used as a smoking area. It was quiet there, fairly private now that the hospital staff had gotten used to him using it, and Stein sank onto the small stone bench that was the balcony's only seating. He leaned forward, resting his head in his hands, and closed his eyes. How had he let this happen?

Perhaps it was an unfair question, but Stein asked it anyway. He should have looked harder, he should have taken that walk, there had to have been something he could have done to prevent this. Except that there hadn't been. No matter how hard he tried to think of something, anything, that would have stopped his old partner's abduction nothing came to mind.

The silver-haired scientist reached up to turn his screw a few times, trying to get a grip on himself. The anger, the pain, the fear, the worry were all swirling together in a huge emotional hurricane that he was not accustomed to. Normally he would write it out, attempt to make some sense of what he was feeling, but his journals were at his lab and he didn't want to go back there yet. Not and leave his patient here alone.

But how much good was he doing here, exactly? So far Stein had been witness to four episodes of panic, and had been the apparent cause of two of them. That wasn't exactly a good average. And then there was the fact that - he tensed at the surge of pain that washed through him at the thought – the man barely seemed to recognize him. Of all people, for that one man not to know him...

His vision blurred suddenly and he reached up to rub at his eyes, then paused. There was dampness on his fingers now. Blinking, Stein looked down at his hand. Tears...? He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried. In truth, he couldn't remember ever having cried, though no doubt his old partner would. Except that, right now, his old partner didn't even seem to remember who he was, let alone their history.

It had always been his partner who had kept Stein tied to reality, called him down when the madness got too much. Now here he was, faced with an extreme reversal of the situation – even if his mind shied away from one certain word, still caught in denial – and he didn't know how to return the favor. It had been unthinkable, had never even occurred to him that a day like this would come. He put his head back in his hands, pale fingers threading into his silver hair.

"What do I do, Senpai...? How do I help you?"

* * *

><p>The silver-haired man had left. Hadn't done anything, had merely given words about not hurting him, and then just turned and left. The patient stared at the door in mute, scared confusion. What did that mean? Was something else about to happen?<p>

It was so hard to think, the thoughts skittering around in his head, darting away just as he tried to grab hold to them. Now alone, he looked around the room again. It was brighter than he remembered his surroundings to be; the walls weren't dark but pale, a clean white that almost shone to him. There were even things on the walls, pretty things with soft colors in frames..._art_, that was the word.

And he was alone. He was never left alone for long, that knowledge rang loud and clear through his mind where nothing else seemed to quite register. He wanted to leave, to get out before someone came and he was put right back into the darkness he had come from, but they had tied him down. It was softer than he thought he remembered, though, and only his hands...why? And he was lying on something else soft, rather than hard and cold, and he had something covering him that kept him warm...why?

He couldn't make sense of the differences. They were there, they were real, he was sure of it, and yet...were they? He had been tricked before, had been certain of something only to have it taken away and revealed to be nothing but a dream or a fever-vision. How could he tell what was real now? His eyes flickered around the room. There was a clear bag hanging nearby, a tube running from it downwards carrying its clear fluid to...he stared. To his arm.

They were putting things into him.

A low, animal sound escaped him, a frightened noise that was half whimper and half growl. That hadn't changed, then. Did that mean that all of this was just something else meant to hurt him? Softness to make him relax, to think it was over and he was free, and then they would take it away, plunge him back into hell and keep...

A noise at the door made his head jerk up and around. Was it beginning, then? There was a boy there, white hair untidy behind a white headband. He watched in silent suspicion as the boy looked first at him, then around at the room before speaking to someone else.

"No one's in here. C'mon." The boy stepped through the door.

"I dunno, Soul, Doctor Stein said–" that was a girl's voice. She sounded reluctant. And the name she'd used...

"He's awake," the boy said, glancing back. There was a moment of silence, and then a girl about the boy's age slowly stepped into view. She had a black coat that nearly touched the floor. A red plaid skirt. Sandy-blonde pigtails. Green eyes.

He knew her.

His eyes never left her as she slowly walked forward, the boy falling in behind her with his hands in his pockets. She held her hands behind her back, her eyes not really meeting his. He wanted to think, _needed_ to think clearly now, but his mind wasn't working. Was this real? Was he dreaming? He could remember dreaming of her so many times.

"Well?" prompted the boy. "Say something already."

The girl shot her companion a mild glare, then looked back at him. "...Hello, Papa."

He stared up at her, still not certain she was real. What if she wasn't? If this was just another dream? But he wanted it to be real...was it? He didn't know. His mind was still full of fog, thoughts remaining just out of his reach. "Maka...?"

She blinked at him, a slight frown passing across her face for a moment. "...um...yeah, it's me." Her eyes flickered to the boy beside her once more. "Soul said we should come see you."

"I said _you_ should go see him," the boy corrected, shoving his hands in his pockets. "He's your dad."

The girl – Maka, why was the name so difficult to keep? – snorted softly and looked back at him. There was a momentary flash of irritation in her eyes that made him tense slightly. "...how do you feel?"

He blinked at her, confused by the question. How did he feel? What did she mean? No one asked him things anymore...why was she asking him something? She frowned again, stepping closer, and he leaned away, back against the softness beneath him. What was going on? Was this real? Was the dream about to end?

"Papa...?"

She was talking to him, but he couldn't answer her. Words had never helped before...no one had spoken to him, had replied to any of his cries or questions. Not so much as a single word, unless he'd been dreaming. Did that make this a dream, then? A dream where he was somewhere soft and warm, with her, with Maka there...it had to be a dream. It was the only thing that made sense to his confused, chaotic mind. A dream.

Not real.

He turned his head away. Just a dream...but she was there...and he had been there, before, the silver-haired man whose name also seemed just on the edge of thought...Stein. That one was gone, now, but the dream still continued...he didn't want it to end. He looked back up at the girl, at Maka. It took conscious effort to keep her name in his mind, but he focused on it, held it there. Maka...she was looking at him, a strange expression on her face. A sort of...sad pain? Confusion? He could recognize that, if only barely.

The door opened again, though he didn't look away from Maka. If he looked away again, she might disappear.

"What are you two doing here?" A new voice asked. "The doctor gave orders for no visitors."

His eyes widened as the voice's owner came into view. An unfamiliar face. That was never good. They ruined his dreams, sent him back into the hell that was consciousness. He tried to sink further into the softness beneath him.

"We just wanted to see him," said the boy with Maka. She'd called him something earlier, hadn't she? Something...Soul? Soul. "He was awake when we got here."

"Awake?" the new face repeated. It was a woman, he noted distantly, but he registered nothing else about them. Her. She came closer and he stared up at her, unconsciously pulling against the restraints that held him to the bed. Was she going to end his dream now?

It didn't seem so. She turned away and started for the door. "I need to speak with the doctor. You two come with me, please."

He blinked at her, barely hearing Maka and the boy's – Soul's – protests. She was leaving him alone? But she was taking Maka with her...she was taking his dream away. He looked quickly back at Maka, suddenly desperate. She couldn't leave...but she was turning away. She was walking towards the door. He tried to reach for her, but the restraints prevented it. She was leaving.

But just before she walked out, she looked back at him. He tried again to reach for her and again was prevented, and then she was gone. He was alone again. But the dream hadn't ended the way they usually did...he was still in the pale room, still lying on softness – a bed, he suddenly realized; it was a bed – and no one was trying to hurt him. Was it a dream, then? Or could it actually, possibly, just maybe, be real?

* * *

><p>Out on the balcony, Stein had managed to get himself back under control. Standing up, he straightened his coat and turned to walk back inside when the door opened and a nurse stepped through, followed by Maka and Soul. He paused, raising an eyebrow, and waited for the woman to speak.<p>

"Doctor, the patient's awake," the nurse began, "did you want us to continue with-"

"No," Stein cut her off. "Let him be for now."

The nurse looked vaguely surprised – and offended? Oh well – that he'd interrupted her, but she nodded regardless.

Stein looked from her to the two students. Maka looked preoccupied, almost worried, and Soul was standing closer to her than she usually did. "I take it you stopped by for a visit?" he asked them.

Maka said nothing. "I found them in the patient's room," the nurse supplied. "You did give orders that visitors were not to be permitted."

"I did." Stein said simply, looking back at her. "Thank you. You may go." With that dismissal he turned his attention back to Maka, paying the nurse no further mind.

Soul glanced from his partner up at Stein. "...He's changed," he said, the words blunt and to the point.

"Yes, he has." Stein wasn't going to bother arguing. It was true, regardless of how much he wished it wasn't.

Maka stared at the ground, her voice distant as she finally spoke. "...he didn't know me..."

"He said your name," Soul told her.

"Like he was asking me," Maka shot back, glaring at the boy. "Like he wasn't certain."

Stein said nothing. It was oddly relieving to hear that he wasn't the only one the patient apparently had trouble recognizing; if the man barely knew his own daughter, well...

Maka looked up at him, her green eyes now showing her worry. "Doctor...what happened to him?"

"...I don't know," Stein told her, pulling out a cigarette and his lighter. A smoke sounded very good right about now.

"Why didn't he know me?"

"I don't know."

"You said he'd be okay!" Maka's voice was almost accusing.

Stein finished lighting his cigarette and blew the smoke out to dissipate in the wind. "Yes, I did. I don't recall ever saying when that would be, though." He looked down at her. "Whatever happened to him, it took a serious toll on him, and he'll need a lot of time to recover but, well..." he shrugged. "Your papa's a pretty resilient man."

"He's still alive, isn't he?" Soul pointed out, putting a hand on Maka's shoulder.

Maka said nothing. In the distance, the bell at Shibusen began to ring, chiming the start of a new school-day.

"C'mon," Soul said, gently tugging at his partner, "Let's go say goodbye to your old man and get to school."

"...Don't call him that." The words were quiet but somehow firm, even with Maka's voice just barely shaking.

Soul blinked at her. "Wha?"

"That man..." Maka jerked away from Soul's hand and glared at him. Stein could see the beginnings of tears in her eyes. "That man is not Papa!" She turned and wrenched the door open, running off down the hall.

"Hey! Maka!" Soul stood frozen for a moment then ran after her. Stein just watched them go before turning to look out over the balcony wall.

Privately he agreed with Maka. The man in the bed wasn't the one Stein remembered, the one who had always been vibrant, full of life. That man had disappeared, and in his place this one had returned: a man who seemed permanently stuck in a world of fear, who couldn't - or wouldn't – recognize his own daughter or the friend he'd known since childhood, a man who was a mere shadow of what he'd once been.

The scientist took another drag off his cigarette and sighed softly. He didn't know how to fix it, either. He didn't even know if it was possible to. But it had to be...there had to be some way to restore at least part of what that man had once been. Stein's eyes hardened slightly as he stared out towards the horizon. He would bring that man back, heal him as best he could, and he would find out who had done this to him. And then he would make them pay.


	4. Chapter 4

Maka ran through the streets of Death City, focused on nothing more than getting away from the hospital and the man currently in it. How could it be possible, how could he not have known her? The young girl's steps slowed, then stopped, and she stared ahead. Her breath was ragged, partly from running but partly also from emotion. He hadn't known her. She had looked into those eyes, the eyes that should have been full of warmth and a ridiculous amount of affection, and had seen...nothing. He'd said her name, but even that had had the flavor of a question, as though he hadn't been sure.

And he'd looked so scared...Maka couldn't remember ever seeing him scared before. Hurt, sad, angry, proud, joyful, his expressions had ranged all over the scale but she had never seen him scared. It had been like...like something she simply couldn't describe. She didn't know how to.

Footsteps sounded behind her, slowing to a stop. "Maka...?" Soul's voice sounded concerned.

She didn't turn. "...He didn't know me..." she said, fists clenching.

Soul sighed, and she felt the warmth of his hand on her shoulder. "You saw him that first day," he reminded her. "He's obviously been through hell."

Maka said nothing, shaking slightly. Yes, her father had been through hell; those scars, and how thin he was, she couldn't begin to imagine what had happened to cause all that.

"Give him time to recover," Soul suggested. "Stein knows what he's doing."

"You didn't see his eyes!" Maka spun on her partner, the pain she'd concealed during her father's disappearance blazing in her eyes. "He wasn't there! It wasn't him!" The words came in a rush now, as if propelled by something deep within her. "All there was was fear, and confusion, and he didn't even know what was going on, let alone who I was, and you have _no idea_ what that feels like! We don't even know if he will recover! How do you recover from something like that? What even happened to him? Where was he? Who took my Papa away?"

Her energy apparently sapped by the flood of words, Maka leaned forward against Soul's shoulder, trying in vain to hold back tears. "Papa's supposed to be stupid and clingy and silly and irritating and..." her voice broke, "and persistent and dependable and...he's not supposed to be scared..."

Soul pulled her into a hug and she just leaned against him, letting the tears fall. However much Maka tried to hide it, she truly did love her father and seeing him in such a state had scared her more than anything she'd experienced yet. She knew the man wasn't invincible – how many times had she herself hit him over the head to stop his irritating antics? – but there was a difference between knowing he could be hurt and seeing him reduced to little more than a child...or an animal.

"Stein'll take care of him," Soul said, trying to comfort her. "I mean, he was your dad's partner for years before your mom came along, right? He's got to have some idea of what to do."

Maka looked up at her partner, sniffling slightly as she rubbed the last few tears away. "Yeah..."

Soul flashed her a grin. "C'mon, let's go wash your face off. Crying doesn't look cool on you."

"Shut up," Maka shot back with a half-hearted smile. He was trying to cheer her up, she knew, and she appreciated it, but her father's state still weighed on her. She fell into step with Soul as he started for Shibusen, getting herself back under control. Soul was right, after all; if Stein couldn't help her father, there was probably no one else who could. She'd just have to trust that he knew what he was doing.

* * *

><p>Back on the balcony, Stein extinguished his cigarette and casually flicked the butt over the edge, not really caring where it would fall. He still had very little idea of what exactly he should do, but standing around worrying about it wasn't going to get anything done. Perhaps if he talked to the patient again...there was no guarantee he'd get a different reaction but then again there was the possibility that Maka's short visit had helped somehow. All he could do was try and see.<p>

He made his way back to the patient's room, knocking quietly on the door as he stepped inside. It seemed the warning had either helped or been unnecessary, as the man was staring right at him. He seemed a little calmer, Stein noted with some relief, but there was obvious confusion in his eyes. Well, that was understandable. Walking over to the man's bedside, Stein had a momentary flash of longing for the chair in his lab. The only seat in this room was the difficult to move chair across from the bed. Well, he'd just have to stand, then.

He looked down at the man, watching as the confusion began to give way to an uncertain fear. "It's all right," he said, keeping his voice calm and quiet. Best to check something before this went too far..."Do you know me?"

The man blinked up at him, the uncertainty in his face growing. It seemed ages before he finally spoke, the word hesitant and more question than statement. "...Stein?"

"That's right," Stein assured him, slightly relieved. That pause had been more than a little worrying. He glanced over at the chair again, then walked over to drag it to the patient's bedside. Screw standing; he'd probably have better luck if he wasn't towering over the bed in any case. Getting the chair situated in a spot where he could easily see and be seen by the patient, Stein sat down and leaned forward. This made the man in the bed lean back a little, which sent a pang of hurt through the scientist. "No one's going to hurt you...you're safe."

The man said nothing, just watching Stein with growing confusion and uncertainty. At least the fear was subsiding a little. Stein watched him, waiting for him to speak, but no reply came. Odd...he'd had little trouble speaking before. "Is something wrong?" Stein asked, frowning slightly.

This apparently made the man's confusion grow all the more. Stein was getting more than a little confused himself. Why was the man not speaking? It wasn't out of fear, judging by his expression, and the question asked was a fairly simple yes-or-no type...so why wasn't he answering? "Senpai?"

The man's eyes closed for a moment, as though struggling with something Stein could neither see nor guess at. After a moment those blue eyes opened again, fastening on Stein in complete confusion. "...Why..." he began, then paused. Stein waited, watching the struggle play out on the man's face. Was speech really this difficult for him? "Why are you...talking to me?" the man tried again, the words hesitant but flowing finally into a complete sentence.

Stein stared at him for a moment. That was what was confusing him? "...Because that's how we communicate," he said, falling back on cold facts. Rallying slightly, he added "Because I want to know how you're doing."

The patient looked at him, apparently not understanding at all. Stein rested one hand on the bed. "Senpai...you do understand where you are?" he asked, trying not to show his worry.

There was silence for a moment, then the man's eyes flickered towards the door. "...That girl..." he stopped himself, brow creasing in apparent effort before he all but forced the name out as though trying not to forget it. "Maka...Maka was...here?"

"Yes." Stein ignored the fact that his patient hadn't answered the question posed. In a way, not answering was an answer. And a worrying one, at that.

"And you..." Again, the pause and the effort; was it so difficult for the man to recall even those two names? "Stein..."

"Yes, it's me." The scientist kept his voice calm and patient, his hand sliding forward to gently touch the patient's own. The man froze for a moment before slowly, as if he had to remember how, curling his fingers around it. A part of Stein was inexpressibly relieved by the gesture; just that simple touch made him feel so much better. "See? It's me. I'm here."

The man stared down at their hands in silence, a new expression entering his eyes. It looked...Stein wasn't sure how to describe it. Scared, almost, but with a note of happiness, maybe? Relief? Hope? That was it. Hope, but held back somehow, as if the man didn't dare let it take control. When he finally spoke again, his voice was barely a whisper and even more halting and hesitant than before. "This..." his eyes shifted to look at Stein, the look of desperately restrained hope almost painful. "This...isn't a dream...?"

Stein stared at him for a moment, then gently squeezed his hand once. "No..." he said, forcing his voice to remain steady. "No, it's real." The man truly thought this was a dream? That just added to the weight of pain in Stein's chest. How could he prove that this was reality, that the patient was truly safe and secure now?

The restrained hope in the man's eyes grew and he looked back down at their hands, lying on the bed. No, not to their hands...to the cuff around his wrist. Stein tensed. Was another panic attack about to happen? "...But...those..." the man said, absently tugging against the cuff.

"Are there to make sure you recover," Stein said, wondering if the man could really understand that right now. He probably couldn't, the scientist admitted privately, but he was also in a very calm, docile mood right now. Maybe he had time to convince the man that the IV was necessary if he took the restraints off...it was worth a try, wasn't it? "Here."

Stein reached over to undo the cuff, rising to remove the other one while he was at it. They were sturdy and secure, and he had to release the man's hand to remove them, but they were off soon enough. Sitting back down, Stein took the patient's hand again. "Better?"

* * *

><p>Had that really happened? He stared at the silver-haired man – at Stein, remember the name! – in shock. The restraints were gone. His wrists felt lighter now, cooler as the air hit his skin. Slowly he raised one hand, the other now being held again by Stein. It took some effort, but he could hold it up. He could move it. He wasn't tied down anymore. But he couldn't keep it up for long.<p>

His hand fell back to the bed and he looked over at Stein, eyes wide with incomprehension. "I can...I can move..." he said, still disbelieving. Surely this had to be a dream. He'd been tied down, kept still for so long, to be freed now...and in someplace warm and soft, a bed...it had to be a dream.

Pressure on his hand made him pause and look down. There was something undeniably _real_ about the weight of Stein's hand in his, something solid, but still his mind couldn't wrap itself around the idea. It was there, in his head, but always just out of reach, near enough to tease but too far to grab.

"I don't understand..." he said, the words soft and confused. His head was starting to hurt with the effort of just trying to think. It was so hard, so many things whirling through his mind and always the ever-present fear that this would all end, that he would wake up and nothing would have changed. Slowly he looked back up at Stein, desperate for something, anything that would make it all make sense. "How can this be real?"

Something flickered in Stein's green eyes – an oddly reassuring green, for being so pale, almost comforting in their familiarity even though he still had difficulty keeping the face associated with the name – that he couldn't quite name. He didn't look away, silently pleading for help. Surely there was something that would make this not a dream. Something that would mean he truly was free and away from that hell.

Then he felt pressure on his wrist. He looked down sharply only to blink as Stein's hand lifted his own off the bed. Sudden fear headed off by confusion, he watched his hand's progress in silence as it was pulled towards Stein's face. Then it made contact, his fingertips registering the warmth of the other man's cheek, the odd roughness of the scar and its stitches. His eyes noted the subtle difference in skintones, Stein's naturally pale complexion compared to his own hell-made pallor.

Slowly his hand shaped itself against Stein's cheek, was held there by the scientist's own hand, and he felt an odd longing. The fountain of hope within him, so long blocked by experience and fear, was beginning to flow again. It was just a trickle, but he could feel it rising. Part of him screamed for it to stop, that this was just another dream and it would hurt more on waking if he allowed himself the luxury of hope, but he couldn't help it.

"This is real," Stein was saying, those green eyes locked on his own. "_I_ am real. You have to believe that."

"I..." He wanted to. He wanted to, so badly, but he didn't dare. "I can't..." The hope within him continued to rise, conditioned instinct trying to beat it back, the conflict feeling as though it would tear him apart. "I can't, I...it hurts...too much..."

"Please." Stein's voice carried a different tone now, almost begging. He knew it well; he had used the same tone many times before, though it hadn't done a thing. His hand fell from Stein's cheek as the hand supporting it was removed; he didn't have the strength or willpower right now to keep it there himself. Instead, Stein was holding his shoulder now, the grip firm but not tight.

"If it..." he began. Talking was harder now, his breathing vaguely erratic, but he barely noticed. "If it's just a dream..." God, if it was...he didn't think he could handle it if it was, not with the hope still trickling through. If he woke up now...

"It's not!" Stein's grip on his shoulder tightened and something crackled for a moment. His eyes widened. This was...he knew this feeling, if distantly. Knew the energy that was flowing from Stein to him. In all his dreams and delirium, this had never happened. For a moment he could think clearly, the fog of fear and uncertainty cleared. He was in a hospital, Stein was sitting with him, he had walked miles upon miles, Maka had visited...

Just as quickly as the clarity had come it vanished, leaving him once again mired in doubt and fear. Stein had pulled away, holding his hand as if it had been burned, and was staring at him. He looked back, reaching out to the silver-haired man with one hand. Why had Stein let go? He didn't want to lose the contact yet...it was comforting, reassuring, almost grounding in a way.

As Stein took his hand again he tried to focus through the haze. It had been so easy just a moment ago, but now it was almost more disorienting than it had been to begin with. He tightened his grip on Stein's hand, looking over at the scientist. Could he really believe...?

"...you're safe, Senpai," Stein told him, meeting his eyes. "You're home."

"Home..." he echoed, giving up on the fight against hope. He wanted to believe this, wanted this to be real. And maybe it was...or maybe this was his dying dream, in which case there was no harm in believing it anyway. A torrent of emotion swept through him, relief so strong it almost physically hurt. "Oh god..."

* * *

><p>Stein froze as the man's face crumpled. Had he somehow made things worse? But no...the hand that held his with surprising strength wasn't pulling away. The thin shoulders were shaking, though, and the words "oh god" were repeated at least twice in a barely audible voice. And then Stein noticed the tears.<p>

The patient was crying.

Stein stared for a moment. What was he supposed to do now? He had a very limited working knowledge of social interaction as it was, dealing with someone crying – at least, for the reasons he was fairly sure this man was crying – was outside his realm of experience. Still, he had seen others interact around him, even if he himself had never tried anything he'd seen them do. There had never really been an opportunity. But the patient needed something more than just hand-holding right now, and Stein was vaguely surprised to feel not just an urge but almost a _desire_ to hold him.

Shifting from the chair to the edge of the bed, Stein pulled the patient carefully up, holding him close. The man reacted quickly, clinging to him desperately, and Stein glanced down at him. His face was buried in Stein's shoulder; the scientist could already imagine the dampness soaking through his jacket and pullover.

Tentatively, driven by something he couldn't quite put a name to, Stein reached up to stroke the dark red hair, vaguely surprised by its soft texture. He had never really put much thought into what someone's hair would feel like. The man was still crying, holding onto Stein with what was probably every ounce of strength he could muster, but it seemed to the scientist that he was calming down a little.

Letting his hand rest against the patient's head, Stein spoke softly, reassuringly. "You're safe now. No one's going to hurt you anymore." The man's arms tightened almost reflexively and Stein just kept talking. "I've got you now. You'll be okay. You're safe." He wasn't sure if it was his words or his tone, but either way the patient seemed to be calming down. Still crying, certainly, but Stein certainly couldn't fault him for that. How many tears had the man held back, wherever he was? Let them fall now; it could only do him good.

And it was doing Stein good, too, somehow, holding the patient like that. It felt right, natural, to have the man there, in his arms, and Stein found that he didn't want to let go. He let his cheek rest against the man's head, felt the softness of that red hair against his skin, and tightened his hold just slightly. Yes, that was relief, holding him, knowing that he really was here, and safe, and that nothing was going to happen to him again. Stein would see to that; anyone looking to harm his partner again would have to go through him first.

A muffled sound came from the man in his arms and Stein glanced downward. Had that been words? Had he really heard that? Or was he imagining things now? Either way it made his vision blur again, and he closed his eyes against the welling tears. Stein didn't cry, and he didn't intend to start now, but those words, and that tone...in the face of a quiet, weak, relieved thanks, the tears threatened just the same.

He didn't deserve thanks. He hadn't done anything. Hadn't been able to find his partner, had left him wherever he'd been for months, and had been – still was – all but powerless to help him. Stein shook his head, just holding his partner closer. For now, all that didn't matter. For now, the most important thing in the world was the man in his arms.


	5. Chapter 5

It seemed at once several hours and barely a minute before Stein felt the patient relax. He glanced down to see the redhead's shoulders still, his breathing more even. As though feeling Stein's eyes on him, the patient looked up. Those blue eyes were a little clearer now, though there was still a certain heaviness to them that Stein was fairly certain wouldn't be got rid of so easily. The scientist was silent as his patient looked around as though seeing the room for the first time.

"I'm really here..." the man's words were barely a breath, his tone one of wonder and relief. "This is real..."

"Yes," Stein said, making no move to let go or move away. It felt good, _right_ almost, to hold him, and Stein had no intention of stopping just yet. The patient shifted, moving to lift one hand, but quickly froze. Stein tensed as the man looked down, seeing once again the IV in his arm. Was this going to reverse everything that had just happened? Would the man panic again, return to that primal state of fear? The scientist found himself holding his breath, waiting for the reaction.

"...W-what...why is..." The man didn't seem about to immediately snap, which made Stein relax just a little, but the way he leaned into Stein's shoulder as though trying to pull away from his own arm said plainly that he still wasn't thinking very rationally. He looked up at Stein, scared and confused even as his breathing became more erratic.

"It's there to help you," Stein said quickly, trying to calm the man down before things got any worse. "That's all, it's just from a banana bag, it's all right."

It didn't work. The man stared up at Stein for a moment, then looked back at the IV. "I don-...I don't...don't...don't want it...I..." Suddenly his eyes closed tightly and he hid his face in Stein's shoulder once more, tense and whispering "No" over and over. Stein stared down at him, suddenly without any idea what to do again. The man didn't move for a long moment, his voice trailing off into silence after a while, then he looked back up. Stein's eyes widened at the expression on his face. It was obviously one that the patient had worn many times before without result, a helpless, hopeless, desperate look that Stein hoped he would never see again. "Please..." the patient gripped Stein's arm with surprising strength, staring up at him. "Please..." he said again, his tone one of outright begging. "Please, please take it out...please..."

Stein sat in silence, jade eyes locked onto the desperate cobalt blues of his patient. He could see the beginnings of more tears starting to well up in them, and knew he couldn't say no. Besides, it was about time to start the man back on the path to actual food. "All right," he said, reaching up to place a hand over the one on his arm. The man didn't relax, though his eyes widened slightly, and Stein repeated himself. "All right. I'll take it out, but the catheter is going to have to stay in." There might still be a need for sedation, or antibiotics, and Stein wasn't about to remove the catheter and force his patient to put up with more needles than absolutely necessary. Not after the way he'd been acting about the IV.

The scientist rose and walked around the bed, turning the drip off before unhooking the IV from the catheter in the patient's arm. The patient himself sat perfectly still, watching him with wide eyes. The relief and gratitude in them was so strong it looked almost painful, and Stein found that he had to look away. He knew the man likely hadn't understood what he'd said about the catheter, and that it might lead to trouble later, and for some odd reason it made him feel guilty. As though leaving the catheter in was almost betraying the man somehow. It was odd and beyond Stein's ability to understand, and it made him uncomfortable. Once he unhooked the bag from the IV stand he turned to leave, to remove the thing entirely and to see to it that some broth was made ready and brought up for the patient. Stein had no idea how long the man had gone without eating, but it was almost a certainty that his stomach wouldn't be able to handle solid food just yet. He was halfway to the door when a soft sound behind him made him pause and look back.

The patient was staring after him, looking...no, that wasn't uncertain, that was frightened. He was _scared_. Stein blinked. What had he done now? The redhead hesitated then moved as if to speak, but it took a few tries before any sound came out. "D-don-..." he began, then apparently reconsidered. "Where..." he tried again, and Stein guessed at what he was asking.

"I need to dispose of this properly," he replied, raising the half-empty bag in his hand. "And I need to see to your further care."

"Y-you...'re leaving?"

"For the moment, yes."

There was a pause as the patient apparently considered this. Then he seemed to shrink, falling back against the bed though his eyes never left Stein. "Leaving...me alone...?"

That brought Stein up short. It hadn't even occurred to him that the patient wouldn't want to be alone, even for just a short while. "...I won't be a moment," he said after a moment's pause. "And I'll come right back." The look of worried fear didn't leave the patient's face. Stein sighed softly and walked back to the bed, leaning down a little and meeting his eyes. "I will come right back," he repeated, the words slower and firmer this time. "Trust me." A pause. "...you do trust me, don't you, Senpai?"

There was another pause. Stein found himself holding his breath and forced himself to exhale. It was oddly nervewracking, waiting for an answer to that question. Would the man say no? Would he say yes? Would he say anything at all? It turned out he wouldn't; after a short interval, the man simply nodded. Stein did too, and straightened. "If you'll excuse me a moment, then," he said, heading for the door. "I'll be right back."

* * *

><p>The man's eyes never left Stein as the scientist opened the door and stepped out. He braced himself for the sound of the door closing, the <em>click<em> as it caught and locked, but to his surprise it never came. Stein had paused and secured the door with a small kickstop before exiting out into the hall, leaving the room open to the sounds of the hospital outside. The man could hear people walking up and down the hallway, see their shadows cross his door, hear their voices or the sound of wheels as something was pushed along. There were people there, just outside...somehow it was relaxing. And Stein had promised to come back. He wasn't alone...or, at least, he wouldn't be alone for very long.

The redhead lay in the bed, just listening for a while to the sounds drifting in from the hallway as his eyes once again took in the room around him. There were still wires attached to him – his eyes followed them up to the machine that kept beeping in time with his heartbeat – but nothing seemed to be happening. There wasn't anything being forced into his blood, through his skin, no needles. There was light coming in, through what he now recognized to be a curtained window and through the door, the room was airy, open...it was all so different.

But there were still echoes, somewhere deep in his mind. A flash of shadow on the edge of sight made his head jerk around. Had that been...but no...there was nothing there. The beeping of the machine was faster now, registering the shift in his pulse rate. He stared, wide-eyed at where he'd thought he'd seen it...still nothing. No, no...he shut his eyes tightly. He was home, he was safe, they couldn't touch him here. They couldn't. He was safe, he'd made it and-what was that?!

His head jerked up and around again, trying to find the source of the faint sound. Laughter...? But there was no one in the room, he'd imagined it. Hadn't he? How could they be here, it was stupid...but...his eyes scanned every corner they could reach, searching for something that wasn't there. They'd gotten in before. They'd taken him out. He was alone now, Stein gone off to talk to he didn't know who. No one around. The noise from the hallway to mask anything going on in his room. And them...waiting, waiting for him to drop his guard, to steal him away again, back to the hell he'd only just escaped...

He wouldn't let them. His hands gripped the side-rails of the bed as he pulled himself up, turned to swing his legs off the side. He had to leave, run, get out now before they made their move. A faint, almost imagined footstep made him freeze, wide eyes once again scouring the room for something they couldn't see. They were coming, he had to leave. Had to get out. Had to move. Couldn't stay. Stein promised, said no one would hurt him again, but he didn't know, hadn't known the first time and didn't know now. There was no other choice. Have to run, have to leave...

He pushed himself to his feet, swaying a little as his legs reluctantly took his weight. Unsteady, so weak...but he'd made it this far, he could keep going. He had to. No choice. Keep moving. Stay free. He'd completely forgotten the beeping machine until it pulled his first step up short, the wires attached to him stopping him from going further. No...no, he had to keep moving, couldn't stay, they'd take him again, he had to get out, get to where people were, a crowd, get lost in it, hide...He reached up to jerk the wires off him when another sound made his head shoot up again. They were here, they'd come, and he was trapped...

* * *

><p>Stein paused in the doorway, seeing his patient out of bed and looking terrified, yet defiant. "Senpai...?" he said cautiously, uncertain exactly how much of the real world the man was registering just at the moment. "Is everything all right?" It was a stupid question; obviously everything <em>wasn't<em> all right, but hopefully it would serve to bring the man back to the present.

It seemed to work. Terror faded from those blue eyes to be replaced by confusion tinged with relief. "Stein...?"

Stein nodded, approaching slowly. "I told you I'd be right back," he said. "You shouldn't be up."

"I...there...I heard..." The man looked down and away, as if searching for an explanation. "They..." he looked back up at Stein, eyes almost painfully confused and with a distinct note of fear in their depths. "They were-"

"You're safe," Stein cut him off, reaching up to grab the man's shoulders. The mention of _they_, whoever they were, had sparked the scientist's anger again, but he shoved it away. Anger wouldn't help here, and as much as he wanted to ask, to make the man tell him who _they_ were, that wouldn't help either. The man was in no state to think about it right now. "They're not going to get you."

The man blinked up at him, his confusion growing. "But...I heard...I..." he paused, obviously trying to think through whatever haze was in his mind. "I thought I..."

Stein kept his face carefully blank. Hallucinations were never a good sign, though at least the patient wasn't full-out panicking or turning violent over them. "You are perfectly fine," he said, releasing the man's shoulders and resisting the impulse to gently push him towards the bed. As unsteady as the man was, it would most likely just send him crashing to the floor. "Now get back in bed; you shouldn't be up yet." The man didn't move. "Senpai, you're barely standing as it is. You don't need to push yourself."

"...want to stand."

"You're not in any condition to-"

"I want to stand!" The sudden burst of energy from the man nearly made Stein take a step back, surprise flickering across his face. The patient's eyes were no longer hazy, confused, or scared; they held a fire that sent a wave of relief through Stein. It wasn't exactly the fire he remembered, but it was a sign that it hadn't gone out. "I've been lying down for too long!" The fire began dying, the man's eyes widening as if he'd realized something and his expression turning just slightly hesitant. "...I want to stand. I want to move..." The fire was all but embers now, uncertainty replacing its energy. "...I don't want to lie down anymore..."

"...I understand," Stein told him, choosing his words with care, "but it will only slow your recovery if you fall and re-open one of your injuries. You're going to need physical therapy as it is, you'll get your chance to move, but right now you need to at least sit down. You're barely on your feet, and if you end up hurting yourself further you'll spend even more time in bed."

The man was silent, looking down after a moment and nodding. Reluctantly he started trying to climb back into the bed. Stein moved to help him, giving him a boost and steadying him to keep him from falling. Once back in the bed, he stared up at the ceiling and somehow managed to look at once sulky and resigned.

"Here," Stein said after a moment, and pulled the bed controls up from their resting spot in the frame. "This will let you adjust the bed to make it more comfortable." He demonstrated the controls, making the head of the bed rise a little and putting the patient in more of a sitting position. "Better?"

The man went still as the bed moved beneath him, then he blinked at Stein. Then at the control pad. Then at Stein again. Then his expression softened from surprise into what Stein just barely recognized as a smile. It was faint, barely there, but Stein knew the man well enough to know what that particular look in his eyes meant. The scientist returned it with a small half-smile of his own and watched as his patient began to relax, the man's expression shifting – as much as it ever did currently – into one of thoughtfulness.

"...What's on your mind, Senpai?" Stein asked, hoping to keep the man talking. It seemed to help, and it certainly eased Stein's own mind to hear his patient speak. Every sentence seemed to help his voice get stronger. Plus there was always the chance that he might get some information on who had done this to his partner.

The man blinked up at him for a moment. "How," he began, but his voice was barely loud enough to hear. He paused, then tried again. "...How long was I gone...?"

Stein went still. Should he tell the redhead the truth, or make up a shorter amount of time? With the man's mental state the way it was, telling him it had only been a matter of weeks might get less of a reaction that the truth, but at the same time the repercussions of finding out he'd been lied to...no. The truth it was. "...About three months, give or take."

There was no reaction for a moment. "Three months...?" the man echoed. "That's it...?" He looked at once shaken by the revelation and relieved, as though he'd been scared of a much longer time frame.

Stein found himself reaching out to take the man's hand again, not sure even as he did so what the reason was...perhaps to keep the patient grounded in reality; it had helped before, after all. "...We looked for you," he said, wanting to reassure the man, to let him know they had tried. "Everywhere we could think of, we all did..." Stein didn't realize he was going to ask the question until the words burst out of him. "Where were you?"

"...In the dark..." the man's eyes grew distant as the soft words were spoken, and the combined effect gave Stein a slight chill. "It was always dark...a dark room...not like this one...stone...and red...so much red..." another smile began creeping across the man's face, an eerie half-smile that gave his eyes a light that had never belonged there. "Blood red..." his shoulders shook in a silent laugh as the worrying smile spread further. "And echoing...always echoing..."

It wasn't until the man's eyes suddenly closed tightly that Stein realized his grip on the man's hand had tightened to the point of pain. He quickly eased up, though he didn't let go, and looked back up to meet a scared and confused, but clearer, blue gaze. "...you're here now," he said, trying to reassure his patient while distracting himself from the signs that he didn't want to admit were there.

The man nodded a little. "I..." he began, but fell silent as something behind Stein caught his attention. Stein glanced back to see a nurse entering with a rolling tray, on which was sitting a covered bowl and a spoon, along with a pitcher, cup, and straw. Excellent.

The scientist took the tray from the nurse with a nod of dismissal and maneuvered it into position so the tray slid across the patient's lap. This got a confused blink from the redhead as Stein sat back down. "...Lift the lid," the scientist told him after a moment's pause.

The man blinked at Stein, then at the tray in front of him again. A covered bowl...there was no telling what was inside. But Stein obviously thought it was all right, which meant it was...didn't it? Hesitantly he reached out and pushed the cover off, and then went still. That smell...the liquid within the bowl was mostly colorless, but it was steaming, warm, and smelled of...

He looked up at Stein with wide, disbelieving eyes. "I..." he began, but words failed him, as they so often did right now. He looked back at the bowl, then back at the man at his bedside. "...I c-can eat...?"

Stein's expression flickered – had the question surprised him? The patient didn't know why; he couldn't remember the last time he'd actually eaten anything. The sheer idea of actually doing so was enough to shock him, and here was broth that seemed to be meant entirely for him. He could feel his mouth watering and swallowed reflexively, staring at the bowl in front of him.

"Of course," Stein answered his question, voice matter-of-fact as always. "It's just broth for now, but we'll gradually work you back up to solid food."

Comforted a bit by those words, the man reached out for the bowl, still uncertain. Was someone going to take it from him? Surely not...Stein wouldn't...would he? No. The bowl was warm as his hand touched it, heavy with the weight of its contents, and he had to use both hands to lift it steadily; spilling even a drop was unthinkable. Still moving slowly, though now out of caution rather than uncertainty, he raised the bowl to his lips.

The taste. He couldn't think of anything he'd ever had that tasted that good. Warm, just enough spice to give it more flavor than what his mind belatedly labeled as beef...all caution was gone now and he drained the bowl quickly, only setting it down once no broth remained. He wanted more, and looked at Stein in order to ask, but the scientist seemed to already know what he was going to say.

"You need to take it slow. Your stomach isn't used to food anymore...too much will make you sick." The patient opened his mouth to say something, try and talk Stein into changing his mind, but Stein held up a hand. "A little bit at a time. Someone will bring more in a couple of hours. I promise."

A promise. Stein had already kept a promise, to come back, so this one would come true too. The man nodded, a little reluctantly, and set the bowl back on the tray. A couple of hours...it seemed like such a long time. A sudden thought crossed his mind and he looked back up at Stein, suddenly worried. "...Will..." he began, trying to force the words together into a coherent sentence even as he spoke – why was that so hard to do? "Will you stay...? With me..."

Stein regarded him in silence for a moment, then reached up to turn the screw in his head once or twice. "...Of course. You should try and get some rest."

Rest...that meant sleep. The man leaned back against the bed, feeling the way the softness supported him, and nodded a little. He wasn't exactly sleepy, but there was a weight to him that he couldn't quite put a name to. Maybe sleep would help with that. And Stein would be right there...nothing was going to happen...his eyes slid closed as he felt himself relax. Everything was fine now. He was being allowed food, he was somewhere warm and soft, no one was trying to hurt him...and he wasn't alone. With that comforting thought, the man was asleep in moments.


	6. Chapter 6

Over the course of the next three weeks, Stein found himself getting less and less sleep. During the day he stayed either in the patient's room or very nearby, even going so far as to put off his smoke breaks as long as possible – the man was getting better about being left alone in the room, but it was still a touchy area – and during the night he roamed the streets of Death City. The night was the only opportunity he had to do so, as then the patient was asleep and Stein didn't feel it as necessary to remain nearby. Of course, he'd also taken a pager and left strict instructions with the nurses to call him if anything at all changed.

Now the scientist was making another pass through some of the darker alleyways of the city, scanning the ground for any sign of passage. It had been nearly a month since his old partner's return, which meant the chances of seeing anything were severely lessened, but he still had to try. Just as he'd had to in the weeks following the man's disappearance. If he could at least narrow down the direction the man had come from, maybe then he could track down the ones who had done this to him. It was a fragile hope, but it was all Stein had right now.

Reaching a corner he paused and looked up at the sky. The moon was grinning down as it always did, unconcerned with the goings-on of the world below. What had it seen that night, he wondered. What had it witnessed? Shaking his head, the scientist returned his gaze to the street below him, continuing with his search. He covered several more alleyways before he finally found a sign. A footprint, or part of one, partially obscured by dirt and fading but still distinct.

The patient had passed this way.

Thus encouraged, Stein examined the print, trying to determine the direction to take from here. The print seemed to be headed back the way he had come, which meant that going forward was the right way. Stein pressed on, steps coming faster now he had a concrete direction, and his eyes raked the streets for any further marks or signs of passage. They were few and faint, but he found them and followed their trail. It led to one of the smaller entrances to Death City, the paved road more a path that faded into the dirt beyond the edge of the buildings.

Stein stopped, staring out over the moonlit desert. The land was flat for miles around, mountains visible in the distance and beyond them the rest of Nevada. The rest of the world. The scientist absently pulled his cigarettes from a pocket, lighting one and taking a pull as he looked toward the horizon. Somewhere out there, somewhere in that direction, were the people who had reduced his only friend to little more than a shell of himself. He wanted to leave now, to just start walking and follow the trail that had led him this far; surely there would be signs out there, clues to direct him now he had some idea of what to look for. But the desert sands shifted daily, if not hourly, and any signs there may have been were long gone now.

One hand curling into a fist, Stein glared across the desert to the mountains ahead. One day, and one day soon, he _would_ follow that trail. He would find those responsible, and they would pay. Pay for hurting his only friend. Pay for making him walk across those burning sands and who knew through what other obstacles. Pay for everything. Rage burned in the scientist's chest, a slow yet incredibly hot flame that would destroy everything in its path once released. His fist clenched tighter, nails digging painfully into his palm, and he turned away sharply. Then something beeped. The noise was small but insistent, an urgent string of sound that repeated twice before Stein fully realized what it was.

The pager.

The hospital.

The patient.

Stein started to run.

* * *

><p>In the hospital bed, the patient slept. His color had been getting better over the past week or so, but there was still an element of tiredness, a weight to his features that was obvious even when asleep. One of the nurses, as per Stein's orders, had looked in on him not three minutes ago and left him alone. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully, his head turned away from the door, heart monitor showing a steady pulse rate. The patient lay motionless save for the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, not even the twitch of a finger revealing a hint of what was going on inside his head.<p>

There it was dark, something the man had gotten used to long ago. He looked around, eyes straining to see anything in the darkness. Vague shapes could be made out, his sight adjusting slowly to the lack of light, but there was no detail, no definition beyond simple outlines. It was a bare room, no furniture to speak of. There was something large in one corner, a shape he couldn't quite define, and things hanging from the ceiling that would clink occasionally. Metal. Chains. And there was the table.

He knew what it was without having to think, a big block in the center of the room, ominous in its simplicity. There was no question what its purpose would be, not in his mind. He shifted back, away from it, and hit a wall. A cold wall, rough, some sort of stone that was harsh against his skin. He shivered. It was always cold in here, and he'd been denied any sort of protection from it. He'd been denied a lot of things.

His stomach growled. When was the last time he'd eaten? Yesterday? The day before? He couldn't remember. They'd started out feeding him, but the amount and frequency had lessened quickly, and there had been no explanation. There had been no talk at all. No one had spoken a word to him since he'd woken up in that room, not even to tell him where he was or why he was there, or what they wanted. That, more than anything, was starting to wear on him. Why wouldn't they talk to him? What did they want with him? His eyes strayed to the big block in the center of the room, a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature shuddering through him.

To distract himself he began talking, focusing on an imaginary conversation. What he would say when that door opened to reveal something besides the usual dark figures that came in to look at him from time to time. Maybe it would be Sid. Or Stein. Or Azusa. Maybe it would even be Maka, come to help her father. They had to be looking for him by now, didn't they? Time had no meaning in that room, but he knew he'd been there at least a week or two. They had to be looking. They had to find him.

He stood up, taking a step, and paused as something rattled and he felt a weight on his left wrist and right ankle. Oh right, the chain...shackles that kept him from charging his captors, and from transforming. He'd found that one out quickly, the first time he'd tried to force his way out. The chain the metal cuffs were attached to kept him close to the wall, and no one came within reach of the chain. No contact, and no talking, and stuck in a cold, dark room with no food and barely enough water, and no idea why he was there or what they wanted...

He squeezed his eyes shut, bowing his head. No matter how hard he tried his thoughts kept circling back to that. Why wouldn't they talk to him? He'd tried talking to them, tried cajoling, joking, yelling...he'd even swallowed his pride enough to beg, and still there had been no reply. He didn't understand it...they'd taken him for a reason, they had to have, but to not tell him why? To not even hint at it, drop clues that might let his own head torture him more effectively? He had some knowledge of how treacherous the mind could be, thanks to his years of partnering with Stein, and for them to not make use of it...

Or were they?

He leaned back against the wall, hands coming up to hide his face for a moment. If he focused hard enough, he could almost hear Stein's voice, the detached, almost sardonic tone the scientist usually used. He could hear Maka's irritation, Shinigami-sama's ridiculously bouncy voice...but they were just echoes, dying away as his mind slid to something else.

Sliding back down the wall, he let his head rest against it and stared up at the ceiling. His hands were shaking, his breathing only steady due to concentration. How long was this going to go on? How much longer could he take it, this isolation? No, he had to stay focused. He wouldn't be here forever, someone had to be looking for him and they'd find him eventually. Or his captors would relax their guard and he'd be able to make his escape. All he had to do was wait, watch for the right opportunity, and take it. That was all. He just had to stay focused, stay calm, until then.

There was a metallic clanking sound and a sudden influx of light as the door opened; surrounded by darkness as he was, its dim glow seemed like a hundred-watt bulb and he raised a hand to shield his eyes. Footsteps were approaching, two sets of booted feet. Were they feeding him again? More water? They couldn't know how much he was wavering, he couldn't let them see. "Hey, guys, how's it going?"

No answer. Big surprise. In silence only broken by the sound of their movement, the two figures advanced to the edge of his reach. And didn't stop. That surprised him enough that he wasn't ready for what happened next. Hands grabbed his wrists, pinning them to the wall. Someone's feet were placed on his, keeping them in place. He squinted up at them, trying to see features, hair, anything in the light that was available, but it was behind them, leaving their faces in shadow, the rest of them concealed by hooded cloaks or robes. What he did see was a flash reflecting off a small vial of liquid, pale blue in color, and a hypodermic needle being inserted into it.

His eyes widened and he fought against the hands pinning his, tried to kick free of the weight on his ankles as he watched the needle fill with the liquid. There was no telling what it was, but he did not want to find out. He had to get free somehow, but the hands holding him to the wall had a grip like steel. Managing to free one foot, he tried to kick at the figure holding the syringe, but got the removed boot to his stomach instead. The impact left him winded, struggling for breath, and then he felt the sting as the needle entered his arm. "No...!"

There was a chill as the liquid was pushed from the needle into his arm, the blue stuff being colder than his own blood and taking a moment to match its temperature. "Why?! What do you want from me?!" He yelled up at them, a sudden burst of energy making him surge forward against the grip that held him. There was a snap as the needle broke off in his arm, but he didn't care. He'd _make_ them answer him, if they wouldn't do it on their own.

Another boot hit his stomach, driving him back against the wall with a choked cry, and the two figures stepped back. He stared up at them, trying to push himself up as he worked to get his breath back. Dark robes, not cloaks, with hoods that obscured everything but their faces. He squinted, his vision blurry. Their faces...there was something off about their faces, but he couldn't tell just what. Only that they were pale. Pale as ghosts. "Who _are_ you...?" he managed. They said nothing, simply watching, faces motionless as masks and just as unreadable.

He blinked hard, his vision blurring more. What had they given him? What was happening? He shook his head, trying to clear it. Was it starting, whatever they'd had planned? He was light-headed, his limbs felt oddly fuzzy and disconnected. What was going to happen? His arms gave out, leaving him limp on the floor. Nothing below his neck was moving. What were they doing to him? He stared up through hazed eyes as the two figures advanced again.

One removed the chain from his wrist-shackle, the other removed the bond around his ankle. He tried to struggle free. This was the chance he'd been waiting for, his chance for freedom, to escape, but his body wouldn't move. What had they given him? _Move. Come on, move! I have to move!_ The two figures dragged him, legs scraping over the stone floor, towards the block of a table in the room's center.

No. No...he couldn't let them just do this. He focused everything he had on stopping them, pulling free, trying to at least slow them down a little and buy himself time. Nothing happened. They hauled him upright, letting him see the table's surface. Flat, rough-hewn stone, with some stains he didn't want to think about but his imagination insisted on offering suggestions for. And chained shackles that would hold down whatever was placed within them.

The figures roughly pushed him down on his back, the stone chill against his bare skin. The fuzziness was fading, he could feel it, but they were already opening the first shackle to place his wrist inside. He had to fight back, pull free somehow. His struggling increased as his body began to respond to his command, but not in time; the shackle clicked closed around his wrist and they were already grabbing his free hand.

He pulled against them, lashing out as best he could, and felt something hard slam into his side; they had metal gauntlets covering the outside of their hands. The strike did nothing to stop him, running on adrenaline as he was, and he managed to yank his hand out of their grip, landing a blow on one of the figures. Its companion grabbed his hair suddenly, slamming his head down harshly against the stone of the table. He let out a yelp, dazed by the impact, and only realized once his head was clear that his free hand had been shackled as well.

There was little he could do now but kick, but he did so with everything he had. At least he wouldn't make this easy for them. The figure at his head stunned him with another blow against the table, buying time for its companion to restrain his feet as well, and then they backed away. He craned his neck to try and watch them as they moved towards the door; they'd placed him so his head was pointed in that same direction, making it incredibly difficult for him to see who or what entered and left.

Within moments the door closed behind them with a metallic slam, cutting him off from the light once more. Without it, the darkness seemed darker, and he stared upwards with wide eyes. A test of the chains holding him told him he had a very limited range of movement, barely enough to shift an inch or so. What were they planning now? Even as he silently asked the question he wished he hadn't. Chained to a slab of rock in total darkness, the options were rather limited.

His breath quickened, heart starting to pound. He couldn't even move now, and the shackles offered no room to try and slip out of them. A treacherous little voice inside his head suggested that once they had some lubrication that might change, and he cursed his all-too-vivid imagination for offering an image of what that lubrication might be. He had to find something else to focus on, something that would help him calm down, anything that would stop the fear already mounting within him.

_Oh god..._

* * *

><p>Stein raced through the corridors of the hospital to his patient's room, coat flying behind him. There was a pair of nurses standing at the door to the room, looking worried and uncertain as he approached. Ignoring them for the moment, Stein looked inside to see the patient shifting restlessly in the bed, as though fighting against invisible chains. The heart monitor showed his heart to be racing, which would have been obvious regardless given the way the man was breathing like he was running for his life.<p>

A nightmare.

That explained why the nurses hadn't actually gone in. The last time the patient had woken up suddenly, someone had gotten hurt. Stein's hand unconsciously went to the line on his coat where the man's blade had slashed him. Probably best if they stayed back. The scientist advanced alone, leaving the nurses to watch from the doorway as he approached the bed. The bedclothes had shifted with the man's movement, as had the light pajamas the hospital had given him. The shirt's buttons had come partially undone, revealing some of the bandages that all but covered the man's upper body, concealing the still-healing wounds.

Stein paused as he reached the bed, looking down at his patient and suddenly struck with the realization that he didn't know how to wake the man up. A sudden rise from the dream might make things worse, and while Stein knew the man wouldn't be thinking clearly that didn't make the risk of getting attacked again any easier to take. But at the same time he couldn't simply wait for the patient to wake on his own...that seemed overly cruel. Stein could remember quite a few of his own nightmares, and if what the man was currently seeing was anything like those...

The scientist reached down to take hold of the man's shoulder, hesitated, then slowly shifted his hand to rest on the man's head instead. The red hair was slightly damp, sweat from the nightmare starting to soak through the strands. Stein let his hand simply rest there for a moment then, copying motions he'd seen others do, gently smoothed the man's hair down in what he hoped was a comforting motion. It seemed to work, at least a little, as the patient stilled. "...Senpai?" Stein said softly.

There was no answer. The beeping of the heart monitor slowed slightly, then sped up again. The nightmare was still in control. Stein grabbed hold of the man's shoulder gently, shaking him. "Senpai, wake up!"

The patient jerked upright with a panicked gasp, then let out a low groan of pain and fell back against the bed, eyes closed tightly. One hand went to the bandages across his stomach, then his eyes opened again, wonder barely beating out fear. "Wha...?"

"...you were dreaming," Stein said, letting his hand fall away. "You're fine."

"Dreaming...?" The man blinked, then started as he realized the voice had come from an outside source and looked up. "Stein..."

Stein nodded, meeting the man's eyes. There was a little life in them, but it seemed to the scientist that it was only due to the aftereffects of the nightmare and the relief of waking. That bothered him, but he didn't know how to fix it. Right now, all he could hope was that time would do most of that for him.

The man let out a quiet breath, laying back against the bed and staring up at the ceiling. Now the adrenaline was fading, Stein could watch as the spark that had been in those cobalt eyes faded to leave them lifeless again. It was an expression that had become normal for the patient, and it pained Stein to see him like that. Lifeless, tired...his old partner had never been suited for expressions like that.

Maybe if Stein could get him to talk, something would change. It was a thought that had occurred quite a few times over the past week or so. The scientist knew that the damage that had been done, both mentally and physically, would take a long time to heal, but that didn't stop him wanting to try and speed up whatever bits of it he could. This nightmare could be just the opportunity he'd been looking for.

But he couldn't just make the man talk to him; that might do more harm than good. And asking always included the chance that he might get no for an answer. Stein stood by the bed for a solid minute without speaking before finally making up his mind. "...would you tell me about it?" he asked, sitting down in the chair that had taken up a permanent spot by the bed. "About your dream?"

The man glanced over at him for a moment, then looked away. It took a few seconds, and Stein was beginning to think he wasn't going to get an answer before the man spoke in a quiet voice. "...I was back there. It was happening again." There was a pause, then he shook his head, breath catching slightly. "I don-...I don't..."

"It's all right," Stein said quickly, reaching up to put a hand on the man's shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. "You don't have to. I'm not going to make you." The patient looked back at him, eyes pained beneath the ever-present tired weight they now carried. "I won't make you," Stein repeated, keeping his stoic expression up. The last thing he needed right now was for this man to see just how much Stein was bothered by his condition.

The patient nodded after a moment, seemingly relieved at least in part. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and relaxed back against the bed. Stein reached up to pull the blanket over him again, getting a look of surprise and then...was that shame?

"What's wrong?" he asked, pausing.

The man said nothing, but pulled his shirt closed tighter over the bandages and looked away.

Stein let out a breath of understanding. Of course the bandages would bother him, reminders of what lay beneath them, which in turn were reminders of something that now haunted the man's nightmares. The scientist simply pulled the blanket up to his patient's shoulders and let it fall. "You should try and get back to sleep."

The patient shook his head. "Don't want to."

"Senpai..."

"I don't want to!" the man repeated, voice rising for a moment before returning to its now-usual quiet tone. "...I might dream again..."

Stein sighed softly. "...it is a risk," he agreed, "but you need your rest."

"Call that rest?"

Well that was a fair point. "You should still try."

The patient lay in silence for a long moment, then hesitantly glanced over. "...are you staying?"

Stein nodded. "I'll be right here."

"If I..."

"I'll wake you." Stein could guess what the question was going to be; the man was worried about another nightmare, after all.

After another moment's silence, the patient nodded. The gesture was a touch reluctant, but at least it was there. Stein watched as he took another breath and released it, sliding those blue eyes closed. So much for further investigation tonight. The scientist knew he could make it to the mountains before dawn – Shinigami-sama wouldn't mind him borrowing a car to follow the trail he'd uncovered earlier – but he was needed more here.

He settled back into the chair, watching as his patient's breathing gradually evened out after several minutes. Good. He needed the sleep. Hopefully this time it would remain untroubled. And if it didn't...well, that's why Stein was there.


End file.
